


The Stains Left Behind

by donutsweeper



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Tag, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-18
Updated: 2013-02-18
Packaged: 2017-11-29 18:35:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/690149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donutsweeper/pseuds/donutsweeper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It may be just a stain, but it's much more than that to Diggle.  Episode tag to 1x14, "The Odyssey".</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Stains Left Behind

With a sigh, John looked over their secret work area. Having to treat Oliver there had made quite the mess. They'd already cleaned once, right after Oliver had stabilized, and he'd scrubbed everything down again the next day once Oliver was up and about, but it still didn't look all that sanitary so he rolled up his sleeves and got to work on it once more. He was on his hands and knees focusing on a particular stubborn stain on the floor when Oliver arrived. 

"Dig, what are you doing?" Oliver asked from somewhere behind him, probably by the stairs, but John didn't turn around to check.

"Just cleaning, sir."

"Sir?" Oliver huffed. "You only call me that when you're mad at me. What did I do now?"

Sloshing some fresh water over the area he'd been working on, John frowned. The stain was still there. He grabbed the wire brush at started attacking it with even more fervour. 

"Dig?" This time the tone was hesitant and then Oliver was there, directly behind John, and resting a hand on his shoulder. John didn't relax into its warmth, but its presence was enough for a little of the tension to leech out of him.

"I'm just trying to clean up," he said, pointing to the stain. 

"It's okay, Dig, really. I'm okay."

"But you almost died. You _did_ die. If Felicity hadn't fixed the defibrillator..." He trailed off there, not wanting to think about that and get stuck in that horrible, what almost was, spiral again and instead shook his head, trying to clear it. 

"But she did," Oliver pointed out. "And I'm fine now."

"That's debatable."

"Oh, very funny." Oliver reached down and grabbed the brush out of his hand. "It's dinnertime, let's go get burgers. My treat." 

John nodded, half to himself. "Oliver?" he began. There were so many things he wanted to say: don't try to go it alone, stop taking everything on yourself, don't let yourself be hurt like that again, I'm here and I want to help, or simply, be more careful, but eventually he settled on simply saying, "don't do that again." He didn't specify further, but he knew Oliver understood when he heard the soft response of,

"I won't. I swear. Now, come on, let's get out of here. Hey, is Carly working tonight? She can glare at me and you can look at the newest pictures of your nephew while we eat." Oliver strong-armed John to his feet. "How's that sound? Good, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it does," John replied. And it actually did.


End file.
